


in the valley

by aecusfalcon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin doesn't fall and Padme doesn't die AU, Found Family, M/M, PTSD, Slow Burn, These Bitches Need Therapy, Trauma, guilt complexes, past betrayal, regaining trust, we're gonna talk about ethics here, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aecusfalcon/pseuds/aecusfalcon
Summary: “Rex told me what happened. Order 66… it was to change us… to make us kill Jedi.”Kenobi’s lips thin and he nods.“I still have a hard time believing that. Can you tell me with a clear conscience, with none of your Force shit being used, and with absolute truth that the Jedi didn’t betray the Republic?”Kenobi pauses, and he sighs. He folds his arms in front of his chest and his gaze lowers to his feet. “Cody… the Republic fell that day. And with it the Jedi. So no, we did not betray the Republic. It betrayedus.”
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & CT-7567 | Rex, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 112





	1. REFLECTION

OBI-WAN THINKS ABOUT where he went wrong. Of course, to say the Republic’s fall was his fault is nothing but a lie, one he has undue guilt over. The Republic’s fall was orchestrated long ago, back when he was still but a reckless Padawan. Maybe even before he was born.

It doesn’t stop him from feeling a crushing weight on his shoulders. He should have seen it coming. He should have _sensed_ that Palpatine was the Sith Lord they were searching for. He was _right there_.

He hasn’t been able to sleep well since. It’s been six years.

 _Someday,_ he thinks, _someday I’ll get more than four hours of sleep._

His eyes crack open when he notices Padmé’s pacing footfalls. If he wasn’t already exhausted he might dare say her worrying is making him even more so.

“Padmé… Anakin will be fine. He’ll be back soon enough.” _And hopefully with Ahsoka, alive preferably._

Padmé stops pacing, and he can tell already that she’s building up some rescue mission. She must hate this as much as he does, being stuck _behind_. It was her idea, after all, for the rebellion to operate in splinter cells. And he also knows that if he and Anakin were to go on every single skirmish together it would raise suspicions that the two are alive against all odds.

He can, however, also understand the helplessness of waiting. 

She sits on the lounge next to him, burying her head in her hands, “I worry, Obi-Wan. Ever since…” _the fall_ goes unsaid, “he’s been taking on too many missions. I wish he would stop punishing himself for what happened.”

 _What happened_ was that Anakin knew now how close he was to the Sith Lord, and what that would have meant had he stayed on Coruscant. Had he been left to drown in his devices. 

Obi-Wan could say that he disagrees for the sake of contradiction, but he can’t find himself able to.

Instead, he sighs and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. The closest thing Obi-Wan had to a family was the Jedi, and they’re all gone now. Yet, he thinks that in some way Padmé and Anakin have become every bit of a family to him. Anakin is like a son and a brother to him, and Padmé a close friend. These ensuing years have tightened those bonds. 

Just then Obi-Wan’s comlink goes off, “Ben here.”

“This is Kane,” _Kane_ , the name Anakin picked up following the fall, knowing that their names were too well known. Being _Heroes of the Republic_ certainly has its drawbacks in a Post-Republic society, “I’m in atmo. I’ve got the package.”

 _Ahsoka_. She’s alive. He doesn’t hold back a smile of relief, “Good. See you soon.”

He hears Padmé’s own sigh of relief, and then he sees her smile. Not fully, not completely, but when was the last time any of them did?

The comlink clicks back on, “Uh, by the way… You should probably brace yourself. There’s… more than one package.”

Raising a brow, Obi-Wan replies, “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

“Kane.”

“You won’t be too happy but I promise you it will make sense.”

“ _Kane_.”

“Just _trust_ me, Ben.”

Obi-Wan exchanges a worried look with Padmé, “I trust you implicitly.”

The comlink turns off and he frowns. What kind of trouble did Anakin get into? Not much, he hopes. (He knows, of course, that Anakin not getting into much trouble is an oxymoron.)

They stand at the landing platform, watching as Anakin docks his starship. It looks a little worse than when he left— carbon scorching on the side and a few loose panels. Nothing too serious, but just enough to show that there was trouble. Obi-Wan’s lips draw into a frown, he hates always being right sometimes.

He extends his senses in the force, trying to feel what Anakin might have in stores. He feels Anakin’s presence, like a furnace, brilliant and blazing, but not as bright as it once was. And he feels Ahsoka’s, like a torch beam in the dark, powerful and never flickering. And… there’s another. Another familiar presence. Not a Jedi, no he knows this much.

_Clone._

The cargo door isn’t even completely open when Obi-Wan snatches his lightsaber from his waste, stance in the ready, teeth grinding in a snarl.

“Obi-Wan?” Padmé asks, her voice full of concern and worry.

“Woah! It’s okay, Obi-Wan!” When did Anakin come to his side? Distantly he feels Anakin take his lightsaber from his hands, feels him use the force to push a wave of calm over him.

It doesn’t work. Not fully. Because he sees him. He sees Rex, standing beside Ahsoka, a worried look on his face.

 _Traitor._ Is his initial thought.

All those Jedi— all those _younglings_. Dead by the clones’ hands. Betrayed. Was it planned all along? 

Ahsoka approaches too, but Rex keeps back.

“Master— _Obi-Wan_ , please, let us explain.”

His hands shake. _Why do they shake?_

“Don’t touch me,” he barks and Anakin instantly pulls his hand away from his shoulder.

“Ahsoka, Rex, come with me. Anakin, try to ground him. I’ll be back with an emdee.” Padmé says.

Anakin nods as Padmé motions for the two to follow her.

It’s all so _loud_ , each word blending in with each other, he feels his legs collapse under him and he grips his arms.

He’s dimly aware that Anakin is kneeling before him, careful not to touch him. How many times has Obi-Wan found _Anakin_ like this? Prone on the ground, shaking. Too many to count on two hands, he knows. But this…? _Him_ being the one in this position? A part of him is mortified.

There’s that familiar use of the force, this time not so forceful, “Master, you have to let me in to help you.”

He nods slowly, and lets some of his barriers down. Now he can feel the light side of the force, _Anakin’s_ presence, like a blanket.

“I know how you feel. I didn’t react too well either… but they explained everything to me. That can wait until you’re feeling up to hear it.”

He nods again and closes his eyes, focusing on the force. He sifts through what he’s feeling; predominantly fear, with a hint of _anger_. Obi-Wan allows himself the feeling for a moment, and then he pushes past it, releasing it into the force.

Eventually, he’s calm enough that he adjusts himself so he’s sitting on his heels, hands in his lap. He doesn’t trust himself enough to stand up. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why that happened…”

Anakin tries to smile. They _both_ know all too well why it happened. But neither of them are willing to admit how horribly traumatized they are. “And here you are telling _me_ to not do anything stupid.”

Both, even in the most difficult situations, are still trying to find a laugh. (But neither of them have _truly_ laughed in such a long time.)

They haven’t talked about what happened on Utapau since it happened.

“With Grievous dealt with this war will finally come to a close. Let’s finish cleaning up, you check the bottom levels, I’ll be near the top.”

Anakin gave him a familiar hesitant look. He smiled knowingly and patted his cheek, “Your mind is still on Coruscant.”

“Yes,” he said with a reluctance in his voice.

“Padmé will be okay.”

“I know that, I just… I worry. What was the council thinking? She’s _pregnant_ , she can’t be spying for the Jedi. It’s dishonest and dangerous.”

“We’ve been over this before, Anakin.”

“I know. It was her idea.”

“And you feel bad because it’s Palpatine.”

“It’s not fair, we shouldn’t have to distrust him.”

Obi-Wan fell quiet. _No_ , he thought, _we shouldn’t_ have _to distrust him. But his actions force us otherwise._ “You know as well as I do that his consolidation of power is extremely disturbing. And the Dark Side surrounds him.”

“Why would he want me on the council, then?”

“Anakin, enough. We’ll finish talking about this when we’re done here. Now, I have to go check in with Cody and tell him our plan. Get on your way then.”

Anakin nodded, “It’s almost over.”

Obi-Wan smiled at that. _The war is almost done. We’ll be able to go home soon._

Not longer after, he’s falling to his death and Anakin is fighting his own men. 

They barely scraped away with their lives, something he’s entirely grateful for, but the sting of betrayal, the death of thousands echoing through the force, will be something that haunts them for the rest of their days.

“Are you okay to talk now?”

“Give me the rundown first, and then I shall decide on if I’m ready to face him yet.”

Anakin nods, and begins.

Obi-Wan, for the most part, is horrified. It makes sense now— the sudden switch from trusted friend to enemy. He’s more deeply perturbed by the fact that they were stripped of whatever identity they came into during the war. Stripped and made into _numbers_. As though they were programmed.

(And weren’t they?)

Just as the Sith destroyed the Jedi, they destroyed their wartime companions. 

Obi-Wan rubs his head, trying to banish a headache threatening to form. 

“It’s… a lot to process.” He finally says.

“I know,” says Anakin. And he does. They’re perhaps the only two that _know_ exactly how much that hurts. Maybe Ahsoka does, too, but so far his relationship with her has been… strained. He has an idea as to why, but that will be something to tackle at a later date.

Padmé approaches, an emdee droid tailing her.

“I’m okay,” Obi-Wan says as he attempts to stand up. The look she sends him is enough to make just about anyone wither underneath it, but he disregards it. “No need for a medical examination.”

The emdee scans him, anyways, “Your heart-rate is higher than is typical for humans. Your brain activity is unusual... I believe you experienced a panic attack.”

“I said I don’t need a medical examination,” he mutters under his breath, exasperated. The words of the medical droid don’t entirely click in his head until he sees the deeply concerned look Anakin and Padmé have on their faces.

“Obi-Wan…”

 _Stang._ Obi-Wan has long accepted that his needs — both physically _and_ emotionally — come last. He’s suppose to be the steady hand, the level-headed mentor. Least of all for Anakin. (He _knows_ that Anakin’s an adult now. But the sense that he must push all of this aside for Anakin’s well-being is so deeply ingrained at this point.)

Not only that but he’s a _Jedi_. He cannot have… _panic attacks_.

He looks away from their gaze, ashamed.

“You’ve been so focused on helping Anakin get better you’ve been neglecting yourself, Obi-Wan.” Padmé says with a sigh.

Anakin’s guilt flows through the force, “Master… I’m sorry. I’ve been selfish lately I didn’t even stop to consider your feelings when we talked over coms earlier.”

Obi-Wan exhales deeply, “It’s neither of your faults. It’s simply my own for not keeping better charge of my own faculties.”

The Jedi are all gone and yet Obi-Wan falls so easily into its old doctrine. (Both Anakin and Padmé have continuously made their cases that it’s not healthy. And that if he feels a little emotion then it’s not the end of the galaxy because that already happened anyways.)

He doesn’t think they entirely grasp just how reserved he is, and how he prefers it that way. Briefly he thinks it’s in part because of Qui-Gon, but he digresses.

The emdee finds this as the perfect opportunity to interject, “Any human being can suffer a panic attack. Humans with extensive emotional trauma are especially susceptible. I am recommending you speak to a professional about these occurrences should they worsen.”

Obi-Wan sighs, then nods, anything to get it off his back. He has never liked the attention of a medic, droid or not, on him. “Right.”

Obi-Wan watches from the sidelines as Anakin speaks, teary-eyed and beyond relieved, with his Captain and former Padawan. Ahsoka looks… remorseful, almost. He wonders what exactly happened on Mandalore leading up to the events of the Republic’s fall. He’d been too _busy_ to give it any real thought. 

She’s an adult now.

The realization hits him hard. Anakin’s a father of two, and Ahsoka is all grown. He feels… old.

Rex pulls away from the conversation as soon as he spots Obi-Wan, his steps careful at first. “Sir. I-”

“No need to apologize, Rex. I should be the one apologizing to you. It’s not your fault.”

A shameful look crosses Rex’s face. “No.”

They’re both victims of Order 66. The Sith won.

“Rex.”

“Sir?”

“I’m glad to see you’re alive.”

“Thank you, sir. I… uh… you too. You’ve got one mean streak of surviving things that should kill you.”

Obi-Wan chuckles. “You should tell me what happened on Mandalore. I take it Maul wasn’t too happy to see I wasn’t there?”

“Not at all. I would love to exchange survival stories at some point but Ahsoka and I are here for more than just reunions.”

He raises an eyebrow at this new information, “Oh?”

“Ahsoka and I went our separate ways some time ago. She took the fall pretty hard. Can’t really blame her for that. It wasn’t until a month or so back that I caught wind of some pretty nasty sounding business. So I reconnected with her. Apparently she’d been in contact with Senator Organa for some time.”

“I wasn’t aware of that.” Obi-Wan’s… disappointed to hear that Bail kept that from them. But he shouldn’t be surprised, it _was_ something they agreed upon.

“It was pretty hush hush stuff from what I understand.”

“What’s the business?”

“Have you ever heard of the Agravot system?”

Obi-Wan thins his lips. “I have.” To say that he’s _heard_ of it is an understatement. He was _born_ on Agravot Prime.

* * *

“IT’S BEEN A LONG month, General. You should rest.”

“It’s been a long life,” he said to which Cody didn’t respond because how could he?

Obi-Wan noticed Cody’s hesitance and gave him a tired smile, “Sorry, I probably do. But I feel as though if I stop I might just collapse.”

Cody snorted, “The boys and I might have to stun you to get you to rest for one minute.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.”

“That would be treason.”

“Getting your stubborn ass to finally sleep isn’t treason, general.”

Obi-Wan waved him off, shaking his head as he picked his holopad back up. “The day you’re able to get me to rest will perhaps be the day I die.”

His Commander sighed and sat down next to him, picking up one of the other holopads. “If you insist on staying up, I’ll have to stay up with you.”

Obi-Wan smothered a smile.

Cody rests his head against the wall, his feet kicked up on the table in front of him. Ever since the Empire discontinued his service, a mistake on their part, he’s been getting by as a bounty hunter. Like template like clone, right? There’s nowhere in the galaxy for a man like him, bitter, aging, utterly alone. It almost makes him miss war time. The Clone War. At least then he had his brothers and his loyalty to the Republic to rely on.

Now there’s no one to rely on save for himself. Which, fine, by the end of the day that’s all he was able to rely on anyways. The traitors to the Republic may have acted as if they cared, but all they were doing was _using_ them.

Which was something he never thought too hard about during the war, more out of a sense of sorting what problems he should focus on first than anything else. He had a war to worry about, not philosophy.

It makes sense that they’d end up betraying the Republic. Sitting mighty on their supposed moral high ground when they were oh so willing to break their ethical convictions out of convenience. They always thought they were better than everyone else, so of course they’d try for their grab of power.

(Blue eyes and auburn hair. A smirk and a teasing lilt to the voice. Calloused hands running over scarred skin. Sad eyes, lonely eyes.)

(Falling off a cliff, dying in the waves below.)

(Does he even remember his name anymore?)

And maybe he’s bitter about that still.

The contractor he was waiting for finally arrives, sitting down across from the Bounty Hunter. They’re a Bothan, one eye missing, an ear with a chunk taken out of it. They throw the puck onto the table, a nervous look in their eye.

Cody reaches to pick it up, but his contractor stops him by slamming their hand over his.

“Don’t turn it on in here.” They have a Coruscanti accent, their voice more refined than what their appearance gives. Briefly he wonders what they might’ve been before this.

“Why not?”

They look around, before leaning in closer, voice low. “This comes from all the way at the top of the Empire. This one is of the utmost secrecy and pays extremely well. Price doubled if you’re able to pull it off discreetly. Dead is preferred, but I have it on good authority this one is… _difficult_ to kill. So if given no other option, alive works.”

 _The Empire_ , what a joke. They made the GAR into a joke. He grimaces under his helmet. “Why would you give me one of these.”

“Word has it that you’ll particularly like this one.”

His eyes narrow under his helmet. “Explain.”

“Information is my currency, I know about you. You’re good at hunting _these_ types. You and your kind were good at it several years back after the Clone Wars.”

 _Jedi traitors._

The Bothan leans back in their seat, removing their hand from on top of Cody’s, folding their arms over their chest.

“Information’s your currency, right?”

“Indeed.”

“What do you want in exchange for me taking this puck?”

“Your battalion during the war.”

He hesitates, but ends up nodding, “212th Attack Battalion.”

There’s a sparkle of glee in their eyes as soon as he says so, “Oh, you’ll definitely like this one.”

Cody tries not to make a face under his helmet at the comment. “I have more information you might want if we keep in touch. I would like to expand my connections.”

The Bothan brings a clawed finger up to their chin.

(A gloved hand, up to a bearded chin.)

He almost expects them to look down as they think on the offer, but they look up at the ceiling.

“Yes, this is agreeable.”

Cody picks up the puck, it suddenly feels heavy in his hand. He pushes it into a pack on his belt and nods, “Very well, we’ll keep in touch then.”

He takes his leave of the cantina and heads to his ship.

(A piece of junk, really, but it was all he was able to scrape enough up for. Hopefully this bounty will be enough that he can upgrade.)

When he’s in the cockpit he pulls the puck out and turns it on.

His breath stops.

OBI-WAN KENOBI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to iterate that Cody's mindset at the end of this chapter is not one borne out of the chip entirely. It’s actually quite a fair criticism of the Jedi during the clone wars and it will definitely be something I’ll touch upon more throughout this fic. Like, the comments about them being traitors is wrong, we know that, but their use of a clone army is… hmm… is an ethical problem that tcw barely touched which is rather frustrating for something called “The Clone Wars”


	2. RIFT

**C** ODY HAS BEEN STARING at the puck for longer than he ever meant to. The holopic must be old, from an archive some ten years or so ago. There’s no silver streaks in his hair yet and his cheeks aren’t as gaunt. His hair is long in a way he never saw personally.

A part of him, some hidden and repressed part, is relieved that he survived the fall. But right now? He’s _disappointed_. How could they have thought Kenobi wouldn’t survive the fall? He’s survived worse. That man has been through hell and back so many times it might make someone believe in luck.

They should have conducted a more thorough sweep.

This is a failure. _His_ failure.

He curses under his breath and throws the puck aside. He buries his head in his hands as another headache hits him. This is a tall order. Cody knows that if Kenobi survived, then it’s likely Skywalker did too, and those two are inseparable. Perhaps if he can get both of them he’ll be paid triple the original amount…

He sighs. No, it’s unlikely he would be able to kill both of them alone. They were once hailed heroes of the Republic. The likelihood of him taking them _both_ down is slim.

He’ll have to separate them. Kenobi always let his compassion get in the way of a mission…

He’s thinking too far ahead, first he would have to locate him. He can’t imagine that will be easy. There’s millions of planets in the galaxy and only one Obi-Wan Kenobi.

There’s no doubt in his mind that, if anything, Kenobi would be on some damn idealistic crusade against the Empire. Once a traitor, always a traitor.

Right. He’ll have to work with what he’s got. He knows the Empire doesn’t truly care about the rebels. There’s word that they’re not big enough, not powerful enough, to take down the glory of the Empire. Cody’s not entirely sure he agrees.

If both Kenobi _and_ Skywalker are still alive then that means they pose a bigger threat than the political officials will let on. Cody’s seen what they’re capable of, he never believed in such things as _miracles_ but he might’ve started to with how many they would pull off. 

He wonders if the higher ups know this, and that’s why they’re sending bounties on Kenobi’s head. But if the bounty is on Kenobi’s head then why isn’t there one on Skywalker?

Unless there is and he simply does not know about it.

But he’s not the one who was given a bounty for Skywalker, now is he?

Tracking the Rebel’s movements will be simple enough. He’ll have to access the Empire’s records of their late transports and missing transports. Rebels would have to get their supplies from somewhere.

And, he thinks, getting into their communication network might be easier than they choose to believe.

Cody leans against the back of his chair as he cuts the power to his engines. He should be getting a shortburst message from his new informant here soon. The Bothan who refuses to share their name. He doesn’t mind, of course, it makes things easier and saves him from having to tell them _his_ name.

His dash beeps and Cody sits up straight, turning on his comms.

“Ah, my friend. How goes your hunt?”

“Difficult. There’s not much of a lead to go off of.”

“Yes. I imagine so. These Jedi traitors are tricky to find.”

“What have you got for me?”

“Straight to business with you. That’s why I like you. Very well. You said you suspect him to be part of a little rebellion? I’ve tapped into their communications channel many suns and moons ago. I have not been able to utilize it as I would like as I lack a key. Apparently these cells are smarter than we give credit for, hm?”

Cody sits for a moment, thinking. He stands up from his seat, “Give me a moment I might have what you need.”

Cody returns, an old holoplayer in hand. He sits back down and turners it on.

 _“I hope this message reaches you in time, Cody.”_ The _jetti_ in the message is wearing his cloak, hood up to obscure his face.

 _“If not, then I’m sorry. But if it reaches you before what is about to happen will happen then that’s good.”_ He forces a laugh.

_“You’ll be upset soon. And I’m sorry for that. But you understand as well as I do that everything we do is for the Republic, personal feelings aside.”_

He sighs, _“I don’t know when or if I’ll be back from this one. There’s so much I wish I could say to you.”_

_“But I can’t. I’m not cruel enough for my possible last words to you to be so weighted. So I’ll leave you with this: if I’m gone for over a month go to my room in the Jedi Temple, my entrance key is 115141529. There’s a written letter in one of the compartments. If you want closure I have all my thoughts sorted in it. May the force be with you, Co-.”_

Cody shuts the recording off.

It was Kenobi’s private key, one he never changed and one Cody often got after him about because _Sir, it’s a matter of security_. So Cody starts plugging the key into the communications frequency that his informant so generously supplied.

“Was that him?”

Cody grunts a confirmation.

“You sound as though you have history with him. It’s surprising to know this man was once a Hero of the Republic. Tragic that they ended up turncoats.”

“Their tyranny is over, quelled before it had the chance to destroy the Republic.”

“I met Kenobi once.”

Cody looks up, his helmet obstructing the way his face twists into a grimace.

“It was a very long time ago. The man was very full of himself. Arrogant and dismissive of those who didn’t agree with him. He wasn’t afraid to show his disgust with me.”

“He wasn’t…” his voice tapers off. He wasn’t _what_? Why is his instinct to defend him? Perhaps that’s what three years of fighting by someone’s side does to you… He sighs, annoyed by the oncoming headache he can feel creep up on him.

“But he was also extremely clever. I’m surprised the Empire would discover his status as living at all when the official report is that he was killed on Utapau. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“No one could have survived that fall.”

“And yet Kenobi breathes and incites unrest, Commander.”

Cody stifles a swear.

“Of course, it all makes sense now. Don’t think I’m not privy to the names the clones called themselves. Marshall Commander Cody especially sticks out don’t you think? And your interest in this hunt is unsurprising given it’s a testament to your failure to kill him on Utapau.”

“That was years ago.”

“Quite right, quite right. My apologies I shouldn’t prod at your sensitivities.”

“I’m not-”

“Ah there we go. I’m sending you the frequency.”

Cody exhales through his nose. This Bothan… he’s starting to wonder what their true intentions are. There’s something not right about this and he can’t place his finger on it.

“Thank you.” He mutters when he receives the transmission.

“Right, well, good luck, Commander. Wouldn’t want you to miss any possible trails.”

With that the comms blip off and Cody’s left to dwell on his thoughts.

Perhaps he should do his own extracurricular research into who his informant is. Considering their connections he wouldn’t be surprised if they were once a high-ranking official. It doesn’t account for how they got into the business of selling information, though.

Tentatively, he removes his helmet and turns on the frequency.

Sifting through the thousands of reports that stream through the frequency has been taking up the better half of three standard days. Many of them are too vague to make any sense of. Hiding their movements though they were transporting cargo. A clever tactic, one he and Kenobi used before in the war in a tough position. But that doesn’t make it any less of a nuisance. 

The “cargo” can range between anything. Weapons, supplies, food, refugees. It doesn’t help that all of them seem to be using code names too. There have been several he’s picked up on that call themselves Fulcrum.

A title also originating from the Clone Wars.

It’s unsurprising that a good portion of these rebels were in the War. How many of them were Separatists they fought against? How many are traitors to the Republic?

(It’s not the Republic anymore, a part of him whispers.)

It doesn’t really matter to him. Not anymore.

He sits as another report for cargo dropoff is playing. 

_“This is Kane, we’re ready to rendezvous with the trading post.”_

Wait. That voice sounds familiar. He leans closer and studies the frequency, tracking by hand where it’s coming from.

There’s a response coming in from the same sector, _“Good. Our team has everything ready. We’ll give you the signal as soon as we land.”_

That one. _That voice_ is unmistakable to him. 

Kenobi.

_“Alright. Stay safe.”_

_“You know me.”_

_“That’s why I worry.”_

The comms blink off. The Agravot System. Well… Looks like he has a lead.

Cody plots his jump through hyperspace to the Agravot System and engages.

Soon. soon he will have Kenobi in his grasp. He’ll finally put that sad chapter of his life to an end and he can forget. 

Well, at least there’s an upside. If that exchange was anything to go off of then that means this _Kane_ was Skywalker. And, from the sounds of it, he won’t be getting in the way of his extraction effort of Kenobi. There’s a vague sense of worry about this _team_ he has, though. He knows Kenobi’s strategies like the back of his hand because they’re _his_ strategies too. And since he knows his strategies he knows Kenobi wouldn’t go in with greenies. He would have the best of the best with him.

Which will more than likely be a big problem for him.

He looks down to turn off the transponder and notices how his hands shake. His hands _shake_. 

His hands haven’t shook since Umbara, since he found out what happened with Krell, since he learned how Waxer died.

Good men that were under his order… no, they were under _Kenobi’s_. Was that all part of the Jedi’s plans? Preach that the _vode_ weren’t just cannon fodder to them? Make them _believe_ them so they’d send troops to die under the pretense that they trusted them enough for it?

He doesn’t think that would be below them, anymore.

He draws his hands away from the console and holds them in each other in a desperate bid to get them to stop shaking.

Maybe when he captures Kenobi he’ll get answers. Answers to questions he didn’t even know he had.

* * *

**O** BI-WAN SIGHED AS he stared at the orders sending the 212th off on their mission. All he has to do is sign off on it and they’ll be gone. And he’ll be here.

The weight of what he would have to do was heavy on his shoulders. As soon as he agreed he knew there would be no turning back. It’s not as if he _wanted_ this mission. He was never too good at keeping up a persona of being cruel. 

Just one innocuous form. One signing. One name and he’ll be sending his men to die and there won’t be any trying to save them this time.

Because he will be dead to the galaxy soon.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt as though he wasn’t _himself_ , as though his soul was distant from his body. All his movements were automatic, like he was in autopilot, watching with no control as his speeder was about to plummet into a freefall.

He pulled out a hololink.

He turned it on and he stared at it for a moment before turning it back off. He didn’t know if this would be the last time he would be in the temple.

He pulled out a sheet of flimsy he had stashed away in one of his desk drawers and he started to write. 

A good Jedi was supposed to let go of their attachments. They did not write final words for those who care about them to read because that would mean there were unseemly attachments. Jedi rejoiced in that their departed were one with the Force.

But Obi-Wan Kenobi had always walked a fine line between attached and detached.

And if he knew the people who care for him, he knew they would want closure.

He started with one for Anakin. He knew Anakin would take this the hardest, and knew that the Council had asked him to draw upon their bond. (How cruel is that?) And he knew that Anakin would not let go. Anakin had never been one to let _anything_ go, and Obi-Wan knew how _dangerous_ that was. But he couldn’t find it within himself to scold him as thoroughly as Yoda did him. Anakin _needed_ attachments. He _needed_ affection and love and care. It is impossible to love Anakin Skywalker impersonally.

Next he wrote to Padmé, then Bail, and then to Cody.

He stopped at Cody.

He could not bear to write any more.

His comlink beeped, and he knew his time would be up soon.

_Forgive me._

* * *

**R** EX POINTS TO THE holomap, a projection of the Agrovan system. “The Agrovan system has become heavily guarded by Imperial blockades. Got word that no one’s allowed in or out except those verified to be allowed to enter.”

Ahsoka frowns as she crosses her arms over her chest. “When Rex and I went to take a look I felt some… strange things in the force. It felt like the entire system was dying.”

“The trees,” Obi-Wan says, “it must be the trees.”

“What about them?”

“They’re one of the few kinds that provide a specific chemical that’s harvestable for the air filters in battle cruisers.”

“I remember talking to a senator from Agravot Prime, they said that with the war they were being forced to increase production.” says Padmé.

“Agravot has a unique connection to the force. If they’re over harvesting it must be affecting the rest of the life there.” Obi-Wan might not have a deep connection to Agravot but he’s well versed in what they have to offer. He recalls the time Qui-Gon took him there to take care of a trade dispute.

Anakin’s frown is deep as he stares at the map. “And what about the people that live there?”

Rex shakes his head, “They’ve had food related famines for a few months now.”

That’s… concerning news. Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, “Usually harvests are prolific. Plants tend to grow faster on Agravot Prime.”

“I’m not a botanist but it sounds to me like their over harvesting of the trees must be taking up all the nutrients in the soil for the other vegetation.” Padmé suggests.

“So if we’re able to sabotage their harvests we’ll not only slow their production of battle cruisers but we’ll help the locals too.”

“Even if we can do that the Imperial occupation won’t end. They’ll just repair the machinery.” Ahsoka points out.

Obi-Wan strokes his beard in thought, she’s correct in that. If there’s a blockade it means the Empire is more willing to keep a firmer grip on it than other planets. Especially when it quickly produces an essential component to their war mongering.

“So we smuggle the workers offworld.” Anakin suggests.

Obi-Wan sighs and shakes his head, “Anakin, ninety percent of the planet is working class.”

“I don’t mean to speak out of line, sir, but we don’t have the resources to smuggle an entire planet’s population offworld.” Rex adds.

“No no, I don’t mean all at once. Obi-Wan, you seem most familiar with Agravot. About how large is their population?”

“Well… the planet is large but the population is only in the hundred thousands.”

“Right. We spread it out over time. We have two fireteams, one will cause diversions making the Empire think we’re just trying to sabotage them while the other gradually pulls workers offworld. Soon enough they won’t have anyone to run their factories which will give the planet some rest from the over harvesting _and_ it will take care of the civilians.”

“But how will we smuggle them out? The empire would be scanning for life on your cargo ships, I don’t think we can sneak hundreds of people offworld without getting caught.”

“Carbonite! Remember the Citadel?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Well, we could freeze them all in carbonite. That would get us past the scanners.”

“Where will we take them, though? It’s not as if worlds will simply let thousands of refugees take up residence.”

“I think between Bail and I we can figure something out.” Padmé says, “More systems are starting to join the rebellion so we can probably spread them out enough so that the Empire will have a hard time relocating them. I think a few outer rim worlds will be amenable to an agreement as well.” 

There’s hesitation in the air about the plan that much is clear. It’s a risky one, for sure, but it’s not as if this is the first time they’re attempting something this risky. Rex speaks up first, “This campaign you’re suggesting sounds long."

Anakin smirks, “We’ve been through longer. Remember the Serphia campaign during the war?”

Rex groans, “Oh no, we’re not doing another Serphia.”

“Sorry Anakin, I have to agree with Rex on this one.” Ahsoka says with a slight smile on her face.

Obi-Wan raises a brow, “What happened on Serphia?” He doesn’t think he was on that particular assignment.

“You don’t wanna know,” they say in unison. Obi-Wan blinks, then shakes his head in amusement. It reminds him so much of their time during the Clone Wars… if only… no. It’s no good to pursue that train of thought. The past is the past and it's not going to come back.

“Which one of us will be extracting the civilians and which will sabotage?”

“We can figure out the specifics later. I think our priority is finding transports that can get us through that blockade.”

“Perhaps I can find a few senators from Agravot that are sympathetic to the suffering on their home planet?” Padmé adds.

Obi-Wan sighs and shakes his head, “Given what changes the Empire has put in place to _many_ worlds I wouldn’t be surprised if they completely dismantled the original governing system and placed their own agents there. Besides, their central government is located on their prime moon, Enel-Lon. So even if there were some left over from the Republic they wouldn’t _see_ the suffering their people are experiencing.”

“That doesn’t seem like a government well equipped for these kinds of situations.”

“Well, before the Empire came in their system was more complex. But we can talk about how their government used to work later. I think our main concern is getting the resources to start this campaign.

Ahsoka snaps her fingers, “I know! I know someone that owes me a few favors. He can get us the carbonite transports.”

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes, “This person doesn’t happen to be a pirate.”

“Maybe…”

“Absolutely not.”

“He still owes me for that time when I guided those younglings during their Gathering.”

“ _No_.”

“Are we talking about who I think we’re talking about?” Anakin asks.

“We’re _not_ going to Hondo. If he “repays” his favor then he’ll simply say you owe _him_ a favor.”

“I mean… He seems to have a soft spot for you, Obi-Wan.” A cheeky grin quickly takes its place on Ahsoka’s face.

“Hey, I don’t like that nerf herder as much as you, Master, but if he can help us get the job done…”

Obi-Wan groans, pinches the bridge of his nose, sighs loudly, paces to the end of the table and back, then places his hands on the edge of the map. “Okay. Okay. Fine. Fine! I’ll… send him a holo and see what he has to offer. But if he ends up giving us faulty equipment that is on the _both_ of you.”

He hears Rex and Padmé snicker off to the side and decidedly ignores it.

Crazy as this plan seems, it might just work, _and_ they’ll be dealing a blow to a vital operation of the Empire.

A step closer to this finally ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up i didn't proof read this because it's late and i'm impatient and want this out Right Now. so anyways, finally starting to get things amped up. also sorry about the like. awkward ending? i realized that i'd just keep going and make their plans discussion even Longer and probably for another five pages because i love writing the gang together like they Deserve. (it's very upsetting to know that the only time the sequel trio (anakin padme and obi-wan) have only been in the same like VICINITY during Very Shitty Times and i think in fact i can count on two hands how many scenes they share as a group being a group))
> 
> comments always appreciated! they keep me going !

**Author's Note:**

> canon is for me to pick and choose from. also here's some of my hcs that won't really come up because it's not relevant to the story  
> \- stewjon is a stupid name i'm changing it to something else!!!!  
> \- clones are 5'7" like temuera morrison i love my short kings (also it's very silly that star wars tried to pass off the idea that jango fett is a whole five inches taller than temuera)  
> \- obi-wan is 5'10 like ewan mcgregor bc i'm not a coward.  
> \- anakin is very much getting therapy right now and he definitely tries throwing hints at obi-wan to get some too but obi-wan is The Most Stubborn man you'll ever meet.  
> \- obi-wan is. a homosexual. okay look this is a super unpopular hc but like... the way mr mcgregor played him in the movies... that's an ENTIRE homo. also i don't think ANY of his romances with women have chemistry??? arguing isn't chemistry it's just arguing (it's different w han and leia bc it was sexual tension whereas with satine they just... fundamentally don't get along bc satine was a centrist)


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